[A Christian soldier with the Army in France writes: "A man got shot on Tuesday, and in his breast pocket they found a tract entitled Within Five Minutes of Heaven. Little did I think, when I gave it to him, that it would cause such a lot of talk. It was covered all over with his life's blood, and the Quartermaster told me it would be sent to his mother, and no doubt it would cheer her up.”
The following is the tract referred to. The writer of it has passed away, so it comes with double solemnity to the reader.]
SOME years ago, a lad employed in one of the large steel works of South Wales was sent on an errand by one of the "roller-men.”
As he was running across the iron-plated floor, which is in many places as slippery as ice, his foot slipped, becoming entangled in the wheel of an iron barrow. Upon the barrow there lay a bloom of steel, about seven feet long, at white heat, and some men were employed in wheeling it from the steam-hammer to the mill. In falling the poor boy upset the barrow, the hot steel falling across his back as he lay upon the floor.
It was, of course, impossible for anyone to touch the red-hot steel with the hand, but the men ran as quickly as possible, and, seizing some iron bars, removed the burning mass from his back. The man, who cut off his clothes, told me his flesh fell from him in charred shreds. After this the boy put his hands together, and said: "O God, only yesterday I was fighting with another boy, and now I am dying; have mercy upon me, and forgive all my sins, for Jesus Christ's sake, Amen." This prayer went right home to the hearts of the men. It was not only a cry of agony, but of self-judgment, and yet full of faith. It is impossible to describe the frightful sufferings which that boy endured, or the terrible condition in which he was carried for over two miles before reaching the hospital.
In that hospital every Saturday evening for some years I had held services for the patients in the different wards. While reading in my study on this particular day, I heard a distinct voice say, "Go down to the hospital." Thinking perhaps I had made a promise to one of the patients I tried to recall it, but failed, so continued my reading, when the same words were repeated. I went at once, which was on Thursday, contrary to my usual custom. It seemed remarkable that I was led to do this, for as soon as I arrived the Matron came out to me, saying: "Oh! I am so glad you have come to-day; I was thinking of sending for you. A poor boy has just been brought in, who has been frightfully burned in one of the steel works; he is in such great agony, and I do not think he can live many hours.”
As I entered the ward there seemed a strange and solemn silence brooding over it. There was no subdued conversation going on as usual between the patients in the beds, or between the little groups of the convalescent gathered round the windows or the fires. Feeling that every moment was of great importance, I went at once to the boy's bed. His body was covered with wadding soaked with oil, and a cage of iron was placed over him to prevent the bed-clothes touching him.
“My boy," I said, "you are in very great pain, I fear.”
“Yes, sir—dreadful pain.”
“Do you know you are a sinner in. God's sight?”
“No, NOT NOW, sir.”
“Tell me why you are not a sinner NOW." Because," said he, "when the accident happened I prayed like this: O God! have mercy upon me, and forgive me all my sins, for Jesus Christ's sake, Amen.'”
“But, my boy, do you think that because you offered that short prayer to God, asking for mercy and forgiveness of your sins, they are all pardoned?”
“Yes, sir; every one.”
I felt anxious to know that the dear boy was not resting upon any false foundation. I therefore selected several portions of Scripture that I thought appropriate, and read them to him. After talking with him for some time, it rejoiced my heart to find that he evidently knew the way of salvation through a crucified Redeemer, and seemed to fully comprehend the epitome of the glorious Gospel—"God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." (John 3:16.)
After singing and praying with him I left, little thinking that I should ever see him again alive in this world; but the Spirit of the Lord was evidently guiding the whole matter, that I might have the experience by which I could give testimony to the world of God's wonderful power and saving grace, as manifested in this true incident, which, I rejoice in being able to testify, has been such a great blessing to many.
On the following Saturday evening, as usual, I went to the hospital, and was surprised to find that he was still alive, though suffering great pain. When I reached the ward with the Matron, I shall never forget the very touching scene I witnessed. At the foot of the lad's bed was seated his father, whilst three young men, who had seen the terrible accident, were standing at the side. They were watching him, thinking every breath would be his last.
I had not been there more than a few moments when, in a clear voice, the boy said: Father, come and kiss me, for in five minutes I shall be in heaven." As you may imagine, he went, but with streaming eyes, and kissed his dying boy.
Then he said to one of the young men, "Jack, come and kiss me, for in five minutes I shall be in heaven.”
Again, to another: "Jim, come you and kiss me, for in five minutes I shall be in heaven.”
Again, to the third young man, whose name I quite forget, repeating the same words "Come you and kiss me, for in five minutes I shall be in heaven.”
And was this all? Oh, no! In a few moments he seemed to gather up all his strength. He burst forth with one of the most powerful prayers I ever heard, so clear that it was heard through the whole ward, which was a large one; it was like the voice of another, and not that of a dying boy of about fourteen years old. Yes, for so it must have been, as you, my dear reader, may imagine from the strain of such a prayer as this which he uttered: "O Lord God Almighty, have mercy upon my father, who has not been a praying father; he never taught me how to pray. Have mercy upon my mother, who has not been a praying mother. Have mercy upon my brothers and sisters, my uncles and aunts and cousins, and all my friends, and may we all meet in heaven at last, for Jesus Christ's sake, Amen.”
A profound silence ensued; all the patients in that long ward were in tears; and when I went round to speak individually to them, many said, “I never heard anything like that before." A solemn, hallowed influence pervaded the place.
I thought what they had seen, heard, and felt had better be left to make a lasting impression upon their minds. My usual service, after such a wonderful display of the leading and power of God's Holy Spirit and grace, might, perhaps, divert their thoughts from deep searching of heart as to whether they were prepared for the final change.
Dear reader, are YOU ready for heaven? If not, when will You be?
What a momentous question; yet how lightly treated by the many, although surrounded by so many dangers. At any moment an accident, a slip of the foot, a runaway horse, the upsetting of a boat, a fall from a bicycle, a blow from a cricket ball, cramp while bathing, a thousand other unforeseen things might happen. You may, indeed, be called away suddenly. What then? What will be the answer to the inquiry: "Where is he gone?”
Is it to be forever in glory with a loving Savior and the redeemed ones gone before, singing praise to Him who is worthy; or to that place where there is no hope, no rest, no love, no light—in fact, nothing to satisfy the craving of an immortal soul?
Dear reader, Stop and Think! Where are you going now? What will your last five minutes be?
Making inquiries after his death, I found that he had been in the habit of attending the Gospel services of a very devoted evangelist who preached in a large hall, where he had evidently learned the way of salvation, although he had not accepted or confessed it.
I was glad to hear some months after this occurrence that the dying boy's prayer had been answered. The father was so very much affected by it that he could find no rest until he found it at the Cross of Jesus, where true rest and peace alone can be found. The mother and some of her children shortly afterward were brought to Christ also.
My earnest prayer is that this touching story may be blessed by the Holy Spirit to all who read it.
“Ye shall seek Me, and find Me, when ye shall search for Me with all your heart. And I will be found of you, saith the Lord." (Jer. 29:13.) F. J. R.